dumber – Page 19 – Muscle Tf Lover

Those Erlinger brothers used to be the nicest boys. So quiet and shy, and always so polite! But that was before Coach drafted them onto the football team and put them through the Process.

Nowadays they’re always strutting around half naked, flexing their muscles and showing off. They just sneer at their old nerd friends, and only hang out with the other jocks. And they’re always bringing back guys to their room for heaven knows what (different ones every night!) and they don’t care how loud they get!

They’re going to find out nothing good will come from being such show-offs. Sure, they seem happy now. Deliriously, permanently happy, in fact. But that can never last… can it?

(via athleticbrutality)

Source: athleticbrutality

Jimmy thought I was giving him a ride to the library. “I just have to make a quick stop at the gym first,” I told him, pulling into the parking lot.

“Okay, but I have to meet the debate club soon,” he said, shifting uncomfortably in his suit and tie.

“Did you say you have to meet the dumbbell club?” I asked, turning around in my seat.

“The debate club,” he said, tugging at his necktie and glancing out the window toward the gym.

“I”m pretty sure you said dumbbell club,” I said.

“Uh… maybe I did. But I meant debate club,” he told me. His necktie was off now, and he was pulling off his jacket. “Did it get really hot in here?”

“So how long have you been in the dumbbell club?” I asked.

“A couple years,” he said. “But it’s the debate club. I joined the debate club a couple years ago.” His jacket was off and he’d unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt. It started to turn orange, the sleeves shortening. He rubbed his arm as the cuff of his dress shirt faded away, rising up his arm to form the baggy hole of the tank top that his shirt had become. HIs muscles began to thicken, become massive and strong.

“When did you leave the debate club and join the dumbbell club?” I asked.

He looked confused. “I can’t remember,” he said, looking down. His dress pants were starting to loosen and turn into workout shorts. His dressy shoes faded into sneakers. “I guess a while ago?” he asked.

“You’ve always been in the dumbbell club, haven’t you?” I said.

He laughed. “I’m kind of a dumbbell, so yeah dude,” he said, rubbing his crotch. I could see his dick starting to stiffen.

“What do dumbbells in the dumbbell club do?” I asked.

“We like to lift,” he said, reaching into his pant leg and pulling out his hard dick. “And then we play around. You wanna play, dude?”

“I thought you had to be at the library,” I teased him.

He laughed again. “What the fuck’s a library?” he said.

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Yes I’d like to join the dumbbell club

Matt blinked dumbly at his phone. What was he doing again? Oh yeah, his friend Craig had linked him to this app, which he said he just *had* to try. Matt opened it and scoffed, yet another dumb thing Craig wanted him to use. Apparently the app would make him look hotter through editing his image or… something. It was pretty vague on the details really. Not like it mattered, it wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Still, might as well get it over with, it’d make Craig happy at least. He skipped past the terms and conditions and pressed ‘Go’. The screen displayed a loading bar with ‘Processing…’ written above it. Matt stared at it for a minute, waiting for something to happen, before getting frustrated. He tapped at the screen, trying to find someway to cancel it, only to find no way out. Ugh, had Craig given him some sort of virus or something?

It was then that Matt caught a glance of his reflection, and gasped. His clothes were fucking melting! What the fuck? He would have dropped the phone in shock, but he was somehow frozen solid. He could only stare horrified at what was happening to him, and the phone which now said ‘Removing Clothes’. So this app was changing him? That had to be bullshit, no app could do that. He’d have to ask Craig what the hell he was playing at the next time he saw him. Anyway, looked like all he could do was stand here until this weird prank, or whatever, ended. He watched as his shirt and jeans shrank into a tanktop and short shorts, then vanished entirely. His trainers and socks became more sporty and his underwear shifted from standard grey boxer-briefs into a sexy red number, clearly designed to show off his bulge and ass.

He thought it looked ridiculous on him, he was hardly one to show off his body normally. He wasn’t in terrible shape but he was pretty scrawny, with some pudge here and there, and fair too hairy for his liking. Just as he finished that thought the display on the phone changed. It switched to ‘Processing Body’ and Matt felt a strange tickling sensation all over his skin. He gawped as his hair started receding into his skin, slowly at first but speeding up until he was completely smooth all over. Normally he wouldn’t mind a change like this, but he was pretty creeped out that this app was somehow changing him without his permission. Other changes began hitting him in quick succession. His body started bulking up, finally getting some muscle onto his skinny frame. He started in awe as he developed pecs and a six pack, and his arms and legs bulged out. He felt a tingle of pleasure as his cock lengthened and ass plumped out, filling out his underwear nicely. Apparently satisfied with his body, the process then moved onto his face. It looked like his skin was flowing as his face was re-sculpted before his eyes. His features were smoothed out, blemishes removed. He was getting increasingly freaked out by the time the process was done with his face. Sure, the face staring back at him looked kinda nice, but it definitely wasn’t *his* face. To finish off his hair started styling itself. It had been short and brown, Matt not bothering to do anything with it other than cut and wash it regularly. Now it spiked up, Matt mentally groaning that it was going to be a pain to deal with.

With his hair finished the visible changes appeared to have completed. Matt hoped this was the end of it, hoped that he might be freed, might be able to figure out what the fuck was going on. The app had other ideas, and switched to ‘Mental Reprogramming…’Oh no no no, this fucking prank had gone too far! Matt strained against his invisible prison but it was no use, he couldn’t even twitch thanks to the power the app had over him. What was the point of these muscles if he couldn’t fucking use them? He felt himself get dizzy… no, no he had to fight thi-… so dizzy… The app flooded his baffled brain with pleasure, making him think that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. He started to relax as the app went through his memories, deleting and reorganising as appropriate. First to go were his knowledge of his accountancy job and memories of his degree, he wouldn’t be needing those any more. Huh, degree? Nah, Matt had never gone to uni. That was for smart people, not thickos like him He’d dropped out of school the first chance he got, that nerd shit really wasn’t for him.

Sex had been all he’d been much good at, or interested in, so it wasn’t a surprise when he ended up as a go-go dancer. Memories of being on stage, showing off his body to anyone and everyone flooded into his mind. He’d worked hard on this body so it wasn’t surprising that he wanted to show it off. He practically bounced between the club he worked at and the gym, what little time wasn’t spent there was inevitably in the bedroom of one nameless customer or another.

He was glad to see he was in his usual skimpy underwear and little else. Clothes were so constricting, he never wore them if he had a choice about it. People called him a slut, as if that was a bad thing. They sure weren’t complaining when they got his ass. It might be expensive but hey, he was worth it. He felt nice and calm as the pleasure continued to overwhelm him, what had he been so worried about earlier? Eh, thinking was hard, made his head hurt. Best not to do it at all if possible….

The phone pinged ‘Complete!’ with Matt’s final acceptance of his new life. Acting on autopilot, he took a selfie and sent it with the message ‘all done ;)’ to Craig. Matt awoke to his reflection, blankly starting at himself in the mirror. Not that staring at himself was unusual, people often told him how vain he was, a regular himbo. Not that he could say they were wrong, huhuh. But still, something in the back of his mind told him he was meant to be doing something…

His phone popped up with a message from Craig ‘Nice! I’ll be over in 10…’ Oh yeah, he was gonna be fucking Craig today! God he was such a dumbass, he’d forget his own name if he wasn’t careful…

Source: linxiaopei

With each bubble he blew, Brody felt his chest inflate – the gum was connected directly to his body, and every breath made his muscles swell.

But he didn’t notice that the gum was also connected to his brain. And as he blew, it was like he was exhaling all his thoughts into the bubble. On the first puff, he lost his memory of all his academic training as a scientist; on his second puff, he forgot everything about who he was; on the third puff he couldn’t even think beyond just working out and getting naked and jerking off.

And then – pop! The bubble burst on his face, and all the memories and ideas in the bubble floated away for good. He looked at me, grinning dumbly. “Pretty sweet, dude,” said my former lab partner. He scratched his balls, then took the wad out of his mouth and looked at it. “You wanna try?”

I did.

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wild-eyed-misfit-prophet:

You were like a statue, you agreed to model for the art class. You weren’t told that you’d be model clay. After underessibg, tue professor offered you some water
Drinking the water, you felt you body seize up, coming to a complete hault.

The drink made you into clay, now you were at the mercy of the sculpting class, apparently full of horny gay men. The pulled clay off of you, smoothed yoir skin, sculpted your pecs and abs, adding muscle to your arns and more to your feet.

The massaged your face, pressing, scraping and pushing. Once they were done, they let you set and dry. The next day they fired you in the kiln. Once dry, they paikted you to look like a real boy, skin tone and all. Gone was the irish tan, replaced with a darker hue, thicker hair and a perfect complexion. On the third day they added all the fine details. The fourth day they glazed you sealing off the body hair you once had. On the 6th day they fired you again. Setting your fate as a resembling a 19 year old, statue.

On the 7th day they bathed you in the waters from the cauldron of life. Your skin gained feeling again, your blood was rushing you could feel your heart betaing. You were alive again!

You were a freshman again, your doctoral work was gone, nobody would believe you. You couldn’t remember anything, unbeknownst to you, the professor known as Dag, has slipped a piece of paper into your clay form. That paper dictated yoir new life, making you a C student, grade A hornball and an above average model. You might get your degree, but you ate much more happy flashing your body for the camera.

Source: tarccisio

“Ahhh, nice lazy to day to kick back and relax,” said my roommate Paul, leaning back in the window seat. His hoodie was unzipped all the way down his furry beefy chest, and he was wearing the sweatpants he always wore to the gym and seldom washed.

I tried to not to stare. His body was so hot, his beard thick and manly. Even his big fucking feet in his tube socks turned me on.

“You gonna chill with me?” he asked.

“I, uh, no,” I said. “Gotta get some work done.”

“No man,” he smiled. “You wanna relax.”

“I do,” I said, “but I really need to…” I stopped. Why couldn’t I remember? I knew I had work I was supposed to do today.

“Just chill out,” he said. “Just drift.”

“Seriously, Paul,” I said, “I can’t just, um. I, uh.” I scratched my head, trying to remember, and then giggled. This was so dumb. I couldn’t remember anything!

“That’s right dude,” he said. “No cares.”

“No cares,” I shrugged.

“No worries,” he said.

“No worries,” I laughed. What were we even talking about? I forgot.

“No clothes,” he said.

“What are clothes?” I said, pulling off my shirt and yanking off my pants. It felt so good to be naked and free.

“Today we’re just a man and his dog,” Paul said. That sounded so great. I was about to ask where the dog was but then I remembered. It was me! Of course. I’m his dog. Obviously. That’s why I’m down on all fours, and barking, and wagging my tail.

Paul smiled. “Let’s go for a walk, boy,” he said.

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“Quit fooling around with hypno,” I told my friend Adam nervously. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I do!” he said. “Watch, I can totally make Mitch a dog.” Our other friend Mitch was sitting across from us on the couch, his eyes slack and his muscles limp. Adam had just put him under and I was worried he wouldn’t be able to bring him back.

“You don’t have to prove –” I started.

“Dude, you’re a dog,” Adam said, waving his hand over Mitch’s face.

“Yeah,” Mitch slurred. “I’m a … I’m a dog. Ruff.”

He slid off the couch onto the floor in a lazy heap, then pulled himself up onto his hands and knees and looked up at us, confused.

“Enough, Adam,” I said. “Bring him back.”

“Fine, whatever,” said Adam. “Wake up, Mitch.”

“Huh?” said Mitch, looking quizzically around. “Wake what up?”

“Wake yourself up,” said Adam. “You’re back. You’re up. Not under. Wake up!”

Mitch shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Oh! Shit!” he said, blinking. “How did I get down on the…” his voice trailed off as he looked down at himself. “Fuck, dude! You turned me into a dog!”

Adam laughed. “No I didn’t,” he said. “I just made you think you’re a dog.”

“Can you not fucking see?” Mitch exclaimed. “I’m a fucking dog, dude! I have the body of a dog!”

Adam and I looked at each other, worried. “You don’t, Mitch,” I said. “I promise you don’t.”

But Mitch was crawling on all fours around the apartment in a panic. “Shit! I have a tail!” he said, wagging his ass.

“Calm down, man,” said Adam. “Look, I’ll just hypno you again. And make you a person. Just calm down.”

“Woof!” Mitch barked, then looked horrified. “I just barked!” he shrieked. “Turn me back!”

“Drift,” said Adam, holding out his hand. Mitch instantly stared at it, his eyes growing dim. “Drift away. Sleep, and go under.”

I hadn’t watched Adam the first time he hypnotized Mitch. It was fascinating. I couldn’t take my eyes off his hand.

“Drift?” Mitch slurred.

“You’re so sleepy. So relaxed. So obedient and loyal,” said Adam.

“Yeah,” Mitch said, swaying.

“So loyal,” I sighed, my mind going woozy.

“Wait, not you,” was the last thing I heard Adam say as I blacked out.

When I came to, it took me a minute to adjust to my surroundings. Mitch and I were both naked on all fours, with Adam between us. He was nude, and Mitch was sucking his dick.

“Whaaaaat?” I said, baffled. I couldn’t remember anything.

“Oh hey man,” Adam said. “I got a little better with the hypno while you were under. Turns out I can make you believe all kinds of shit.”

“What’s hypno?” I said. What was going on? I was so confused.

Adam laughed. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You remember who you are?”

“Uhhh, I think so,” I said. “I’m your slutty pup, right?”

“Good boy,” said Adam. “And who’s that?” he pointed at Mitch, slobbering on his cock.

“Mitch?” I guessed. Mitch looked over at me, grinning.

“Ruff!” he barked. “You want in on this bone?”

“Yeah man,” I said, leaning in and opening my mouth wide.

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Source: maestrodiego

I was about to walk into the conference room to defend my thesis when the stripper curse struck. One minute I was dressed in a suit and tie with a briefcase under my arm, and then there was flash of light and my clothes began to disintegrate, my body heaving as muscle grew. The professional outfit I’d picked out shrunk around my hairless body until I was wearing nothing more than a thong, and a cap and sunglasses appeared on my head. I looked down to the papers in my hand to see that they’d turned into a toy basketball, and suddenly all of my research and knowledge was gone. In its place was my job as a sporty jock stripper, obsessed with putting my tongue on balls.

“We’re ready for you,” called a voice from inside the conference room, and I confidently strode in to begin my act.

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Source: apolloeroscupido

“Were you going to do laundry today?” said my roommate Bill, wandering into the living room in just his underwear. “This is the only clean pair I have left.”

“Ugh, clean?” I said, shielding my face. His body odor was overpowering – the sweaty smell filled the room as soon as he walked in. He must have just come from the gym. “I can’t keep doing your laundry for you dude,” I said.

“Come on, just throw in a few of my things with yours,” he said, picking up some crumpled underwear from the ground as tossing it at me. Instinctively, I caught it, and then regretted it. The stink of his musk filled my face.

“So gross, man,” I said. “No, you gotta clean your own stuff.”

“Or maybe we’ll just stop cleaning altogether,” he said.

What? What was he talking about? The smell of the underwear in my hand was making my head swim. “We can’t … stop …” I said, feeling floaty.

“Smelling dirty isn’t so bad,” he said, staring me down. “You might like it.”

“No, I don’t … come on, man, just clean your, um,” I looked down at his underwear. Why did it smell so strong? It was so weird. I sniffed a bit and felt the stink of his sweaty balls invade my nose. “Just need to wash your…” I couldn’t finish a sentence. The smell was just too powerful. At least, I think it was the smell. I raised his underwear to my face and took a whiff. Oh God, yes, the smell was so strong, so powerful, so intense – I couldn’t think of anything else. I just wanted to be close to it, enveloped in it. I pressed his underwear against my face again and took as deep a breath as I could.

“Good boy,” he said. “You love it.”

“So good,” I murmured, licking the salty sweat from his crumpled briefs.

“Come get it fresh,” he said, yanking down his underwear to let his cock and balls flop out. The musk was like a magnet, and I fell to all fours to crawl to his crotch and bury my face in his damp pubes.

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the-golden-opportunity:

One sip, and his pecs jutted out from his chest a little bit more. A second sip, his biceps ballooned out, pushing up and stretching out his shirt sleeves. Third sip, he flipped his hat around without even realizing it. It was on the fourth sip that he got that dumb look on his face. Fifth sip, and he was all mine.

“Flex for me, bro,” I told him.

He put his big arms above his head and put a cocky look on his face.

“Yeah, bro,” I complimented him, “Nice arms.”

He let out a dumb chuckle and continued flexing for himself. He was completely oblivious of his instant muscle growth. All he knew was that he was fuckin’ big now, and he wanted to show it off.

“Fuck yeah,” he said. Damn, his voice had gotten so deep and dumb-sounding.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight, though,” I said. I raised an eyebrow and looked at the bottle that he had continued sipping from. With each sip he took, he was becoming more and more simple-minded. If he kept it up at this pace, I doubted he’d even be able to string a sentence together by the end of the night.

“This shit is fuckin’ lit, bro,” he slurred, “What the fuck is in this shit?”

“Just a special little serum I invented to help turn you into a dumb, muscular frat bro,” I smiled.

“Huh?” What I had just told him had clearly gone over his head. “Whatever, bro. That sounds like some fuckin’ stupid science shit or somethin’.”